Leave Me Alone
by Kath87
Summary: Aunt Petunia has changed dramatically, and it is driving Harry crazy. How can he cope with all this...love?!
1. Default Chapter

Leave Me Alone  
  
A month had gone by since Harry Potter had stepped off the train at King's Cross. "A month," he sighed. "Only a month." He couldn't believe it as he marked an X over the date on his calendar, counting down to September first, when he would get back on the train that would take him home. Harry could never call Number Four Privet Drive home. He didn't care about the freakin' protection the house had that required him to be enslaved there for most of the summer. To him, it was nothing. Hogwarts was, and always would be, his real home, and he longed to go back.  
Harry's desire for his school was probably the reason the summer was going by so slowly. As he looked at his homemade calendar, he said it again. " A month. It's only been a freakin' month. Satan, why do you hate me?" Harry flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes, trying not to think about the heavy scent Lysol that filled his bedroom. His Aunt Petunia had taken to cleaning his bedroom as thoroughly as the rest of the house. Dusting the furniture, sweeping the floor. Crap, she even moved the bed and swept under it. Who the freak does that? Leave the freakin' bed alone! Gosh!  
In fact, Aunt Petunia was the sole reason that this summer was the most unbearable of Harry's miserable life. The funny thing was, she didn't mistreat him, or be rude to him, or anything of that sort. On the contrary, she was so kind and caring that Harry could hardly breathe. He assumed this change in behavior was due to the threats made by the Order of the Phoenix on if Harry was mistreated in any way. "Well," he thought as he tried to drift off to sleep, "they certainly are trying." Uncle Vernon now barely said two words to him, and Dudley, who had recently got a summer job and developed a strange obsession with golf, would come home after work, change into casual clothes (he worked in a jewelry store; no one knows how that happened), went off to hit balls for a couple of hours, and came home, ate, and hauled himself in his room. Harry didn't blame him for not wanting to be in the house. Dudley's mother was suffocating everyone with her desire to take care of everyone.  
Suddenly, there was a rap on the door. Harry jumped up, startled. "What now," he thought, filling with dread. 


	2. Ch 2

I just want to say to the two ppl who read and reviewed, sorry its been so late, I have been really busy with school (You know, because I go to school. ( I love you Kimmy!) I will try to update more regularly in the future. God bless!  
  
Ch. 2  
  
Harry fell back down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. I'll pretend I'm asleep, he thought, as the knocking on his door persisted.  
"Harry, are you in there?'"  
No, he thought sarcastically, I'm not here. I'm.somewhere that is not here.Oh I give up. "Yeah?"  
"May I come in?"  
"Sure."  
There was a pause. Harry stared at the ceiling a little more, then realized that she was waiting for him to open the door. He slowly and reluctantly pushed himself up and dragged himself over to the door and pulled it open. In walked Aunt Petunia. She was a tall, skinny woman with pale eyes and an abnormally long neck. She also had adopted this look on her face that was a mixture of love and scorn. It made Harry sick to his stomach. His dread increased when he saw that she had a bag from a local department store with her.  
"I went out today, and I have noticed that you're shoes have long since worn out," she said, while pulling out a box. "So I thought that you might like these."  
The shoes would have been very nice, if he were forty and a big mama's boy. But unfortunately for Aunt Petunia, he was fifteen, not forty, and since he didn't have a mother, it was rather hard for him to be a mama's boy, so his dear aunt would have to take them back.  
Harry didn't voice any of these thoughts, however, due to the fact that whenever he did voice his opinion, she got all defensive and sometimes there were tears, and then he would feel guilty, so he just learned to keep his mouth shut. Discretion was and important tool in the Dursley household.  
  
"Umm.there nice Aunt Petunia, but.I don't really need any shoes."  
Aunt Petunia had an indignant look on her face. "Oh yes, Harry, you do. Have you seen the bottom of your shoes?" Then she spoke in that extremely annoying whisper that Harry hated so much, like she was telling a huge secret or a bad joke. "The soles are all worn down! You'll get great blisters on your feet! Plus they're all grungy. I've tried washing them and I bleached them, and laid them out to dry, but it didn't do any good."  
Harry tried to contemplate why a person would bleach leather tennis shoes, then shook his head, and said, "Yes, I do need new shoes, but I can get them myself. I would kind of like to pick them out and stuff. I mean, those"- he pointed to the "casual dress" tennis shoes- "Are really too dressy. I need something more hardy, because I work um, hard."  
Aunt Petunia still had that stubborn look on her face. "Oh these are nice and sturdy. Maybe you should try them on and see if you like them and if you don't, I can always take them back. I'm the Queen of returns!" She laughed at her own joke. Harry smiled feebly. "Okay well, I'll leave them here and you try them on when you get a chance."  
"Okay."  
"You know it's because I love you."  
"Yeah."  
"I wouldn't bother if I didn't."  
"I know."  
The door closed again. Harry let the fake smile slip off his face, and sank down on the bed, letting out a huge sigh. The air always seemed so tense when she was in the room. He didn't even get why he was so annoyed by her. He would have thought that he would be happy that she had done a complete turn-around and now actually gave a crap. He guessed that he just wasn't used to all the love and attention, having been deprived of it for ten years. Harry turned out the light and closed his eyes. He didn't need to think about his emotional problems right now. He needed to concentrate on trying to sleep with his mouth open, because the room still smelled like Lysol. 


	3. Ch3

Okay, this chapter is very short, and very random, but I needed to vent some frustration. For the two people that care, driver's ed is over so hopefully I will have more time to update this story and start to work on other things that are more meaningful. For now, enjoy this chapter that mirrors my frustrating family life.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
The next morning, Harry woke up just knowing it was going to be one of those days. He turned over groggily and looked at the repaired alarm clock on his bedside table. It read 10:30. He looked at it for about three seconds, the let his head fall back onto his pillow. Screw it I'm not getting up. It's not like I'm doing anything today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that...  
  
* * *  
  
About five minutes later Harry was jerked awake by a rapping on the door (again) and his aunt saying in a whiny, nasal voice, "Harry? Don't you think it's time to get up?"  
"No..." he groaned, too low for his aunt to hear.  
  
"Harry?"  
Harry mumbled something unintelligible, and since Aunt Petunia acknowledged that he was awake, she continued.  
"I made a bowl of oats for myself, would you like some?"  
"No, I'll just have some toast," he mumbled.  
"What?"  
"I'll just have some toast," he said, a little louder than he intended.  
"Do you want some fruit?"  
"No."  
"An oatmeal bar to go with it?"  
"No."  
"Some eggs?"  
"No, thank you."  
"Just toast then?"  
"Yep."  
"It'll be ready in a few minutes."  
"Okay."  
Wow, Harry thought as he forced himself to sit up. It's gonna be a long day... 


	4. Ch 4

Okay, now this chapter is really short, and really, really random, but I have to put it in for Kimmi. I love you Kimmi!  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Wow I'm glad that day's over. Harry had just spent what was one of the longest days of his life. He would rather be fighting an army of death eaters in the middle of Pakistan (Pakistan? Where did that come from?) than go through another day like that...too bad everyday at Number Four, Privet Drive was the same. The weather had been very humid that day, and Uncle Vernon insisted on not turning on the A.C. because last month's bill was higher than usual. Well, yeah, it's gonna be as the weather gets warmer. So Harry was forced to sit in the kitchen eating his nasty Aunt Millie's four calorie toast (It's like eating a freakin' sponge) Eat the fruit that Aunt Petunia had forced him to eat (There does not need to be this much Equal on this fruit), and listen to her make suggestions about how he could be a better person. "You need more protein, you need to eat more vegetables, you need to exercise more, you need to get to bed earlier, you need to blah blah words blah..."  
Voldemort, if you're listening, please come and kill me now. PLEASE!...I was just kidding, don't really come and kill me.  
"You know, if you get to bed early, then you wake up bright and fresh and you have a better day..."  
Okay, maybe I wasn't kidding, no I was, yes, no, yes, no, yes, no...  
Harry's inner battle about whether or not he wanted to be murdered was interrupted when Uncle Vernon walked into the kitchen. His large feet pounding on the kitchen floor made Harry jump. What? Oh, yeah, it's Saturday. Isn't that weird...  
"Where's Dudley? I wanted to see if he wanted to make some extra money and wash the car for me."  
"I WILL!"  
Harry was extremely excited. Washing the car! The perfect chance to get out of the house and away from Aunt Petunia! Oh joy!  
Uncle Vernon eyed Harry suspiciously. "Why do you want to wash the car?" he growled.  
"Um," he thought, "uh, because, because, I need something to do, and it's hot, and the um, hose would cool me off and stuff. Yeah. You don't have to pay me," he added as an afterthought.  
"I wasn't going to give you any money anyway," Uncle Vernon snarled. "Alright boy, get out there and I want the car spotless."  
"Oh thank you, thank you!" he yelled. And with that, he ran out of the house to get the sponge and bucket.  
Washing the car was an enjoyable experience. The water was nice and cool, and there was no one there to criticize him. Just the foamy soap and the sound of running water. However, there was one particular moment when he had heard a commotion across the street, but he had shrugged it off. But to ease the minds of my gentle viewers, I will tell you just what the commotion was...  
  
* * *  
An evil looking man, tall, skeletal, and white, with red eyes and a flat  
nose, was crouching behind some bushes across the street from Number Four  
Privet Drive. He was watching a boy with dark hair and glasses wash a  
car, and he chuckled with glee.  
"Yes, wash the car, Harry, wash the car...dry the wheel..."  
He continued in this vein for quite some time, until he turned  
around and saw two little kids staring at him.  
"Heh, heh, heh," he tugged at the collar of his evil robes. He was  
quite nervous and quite upset at being caught in his hiding spot, and by  
two little Muggles, no doubt. "Hello little ones. Would you like some  
candy? It's premium candy." He held out some Bertie Botts Every Flavor  
Beans for the children to take. They just continued to stare at him. Then  
one of them said, "We don't take candy from strangers, you're a perverted  
old man." Then they kicked the Dark Lord in the shins and ran away.  
Voldemort let out a yell and some curses. "Ahh! @$@#! Crucio! #$(%#@!"  
Then he remembered why he was there and quieted down again. He looked  
back at the boy. He had turned off the nose and was looking around  
curiously. "Crap!" Voldemort cried. He Disapparated in a huff. The boy  
shrugged and continued to wash the car.  
  
* * *  
  
Thinking back on the day, Harry guessed that it could have been  
worse. Tomorrow there wouldn't be a car to wash, so he'd have to find  
some other way to get away from the house. Tonight he would sleep, and  
have strange dreams about candy and a bodiless voice saying "Yes, wash  
the car, Harry, wash the car...dry the wheel..."  
  
Later that night, Harry was awakened by a strange wheezing sound. At  
first, he thought it was just part of his dream. Then he was fully awake,  
and he realized it was coming from outside the door. He looked at the  
crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, and he saw a pair of  
pink terry-cloth house shoes right up against the door. The occupant of  
the slippers was breathing very heavily. Harry stared wide eyed at the  
door, horrified. What the freak?!... 


	5. Ch 5

Hey guys! I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who reviewed. I even got one from someone I don't know, so I'm excited! So again, thanks!  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Harry woke up the next morning, dreading the day ahead, as usual. He stared at the ceiling and hummed the Out of Eden song, Draw You Near, for it matched his mood perfectly:  
  
I woke up on this morning  
  
And misery surrounds me  
  
And I am forced to face a day I didn't even want to begin  
  
God knows I'm going through it, and it's hard to imagine I can make it this time  
  
As my sadness mounts I pray that this day would end  
  
Cry myself to sleep and then start again...  
  
Harry was not feeling very happy this morning. He looked at his clock. It was 11:30. "Wow," he thought to himself, "She really let me sleep in." But as he also knew she disapproved of sleeping later than like, 10:00, he knew he had a lecture coming. He could just hear her now. "You should really get to bed earlier, then you'll be refreshed in the morning and you won't miss half of the day...you have your days and nights mixed up." UGH! He hated when she said that, which she said quite often. So, he devised an evil plan. He would make his bed, quickly take a shower and stuff, and act like he had been awake for a while; he just hadn't come downstairs yet. It was perfect. Heh, heh, heh...  
So Harry proceeded with this, and it worked fairly well. At least, when he went downstairs Aunt Petunia didn't say anything to him. He got out the bread and margarine, and fixed himself some toast. Immediately, she started in on him.  
"There's fruit in the refrigerator if you want it."  
"Um, no thanks, I'll just—  
"It's right here," Aunt Petunia took the little Tupperware container she had filled with sliced oranges and grapes out of the fridge, and showed it to him, like he was retarded and couldn't recognize fruit.  
"I'll just get a banana," he said, clenching his fist. He didn't really want the banana, but he ate it just to get his aunt off of his back, which didn't work.  
"You should eat more nutrition, just toast isn't gonna do it. And you're putting too much butter on it; it's loaded with fat. You can still eat, don't try to lose wait or anything by not eating, because that's not the right way..."  
Harry was barely controlling himself. He was clutching the butter knife exceptionally hard as he ran it under the sink trying to get the "evil butter" off. Come on! It's not even butter! It's margarine! That's why the container says I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! And what's all the "not eating" about? I'm not trying to lose weight, have you seen me? I'm a freaking Ethiopian! (A/N: no offense to Ethiopians, I love Ethiopians, I'm just trying to make a point that Harry is really skinny, so don't hate me, I'm not racist. I LOVE BLACK PEOPLE!( ) I am wasting away! I need butter!  
Harry wolfed down his toast and ran upstairs, Aunt Petunia still making suggestions on how he could be a better person. "I have got to get out of here, or I will do Voldemort a favor and kill myself...wait! Voldemort! That's it! That isn't really Aunt Petunia, that's one of Voldemort's evil henchmen, pretending to be Aunt Petunia, and acting all crazy so that I'll either kill myself or be pushed to insanity and have to be taken to St. Mungo's and spend the rest of my life signing autographs with Lockhart! Oh God! Help! Harry continued in this vein for some time before he settled down and realized that he was extremely paranoid. "No, it's not some evil scheme of Voldemort's," he thought, looking out the window and sighing, "My life just sucks. I hate my life." 


End file.
